


Writer in Residence

by liairene



Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [2]
Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Drama, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liairene/pseuds/liairene
Summary: Frederick Wentworth left Highbury at the age of twenty-two with no intention of ever returning. When an opportunity to return arises, his only goal to avoid Annie Eliot as much as possible.But life never works quite the way that you want.
Relationships: Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth
Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/908481
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Writer in Residence

To begin with, Erik Wentworth had not planned to apply for the Writer in Residence post at Highbury College. He saw something about it in an alumni newsletter, but he didn’t read it carefully. (To be fair, he never read the alumni newsletter.) He’d published his first book less than a year earlier, and while it was successful, he still saw himself primarily as a high school English teacher. He liked his job. He enjoyed teaching. He was happy-more or less-with his life.

But in October, his former professor Orlando Higgins emailed him and encouraged him to apply for the post. Erik did-after Orlando’s second email, but the application wasn’t his best work. In all honesty he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go back to Highbury. His lackluster efforts didn’t seem to dissuade Orlando and the others in the English department. In November, Erik drove up to Highbury for an in-person interview.

He hadn’t set foot in Highbury since graduating six years earlier. After graduation, he’d served in the Navy for four years, and he was now in his third year teaching high school English in suburban Detroit. But he took two days off from work and left behind a mountain of sub plans so that he could head up for his interview.

He made the drive from his apartment in Lyme, Michigan to Highbury in about four and a half hours. He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful the scenery on the drive could be, and he couldn’t call the trip unpleasant. He checked into the room that Orlando had arranged for him at the Longbourn Estates, and immediately he found memories flooding over him.

His college girlfriend had been friends with the oldest two daughters of the Longbourn’s owners, and he’d spent plenty of time at the hotel’s beach during his Highbury days. From the moment he pulled into the parking lot sights, sounds, and smells associated with his younger days began to ambush him. The petite brunette at the front desk had born such strong resemblance to his former girlfriend’s best friend that he was nearly certain that “Camilla” had to be one of the owner’s younger daughters. His room afforded him a view of the lake where he’d once spent his weekends swimming and boating.

* * *

With more than an hour to spare before he was meant to meet Orlando for dinner, Erik decided to explore downtown Highbury. He remembered how to get to Main Street from the Longbourn and set on his way. He walked through a largely residential area and soon found himself looking at the farmers market. He crossed the road and found himself looking at a sign that read “The Knit Wit.” When he was in college, this place had been the Bake Shop. A few of his friends had worked there, and it had always been a good place to study off campus. From the window, it appeared to be some sort of café and bookstore. He decided to step inside.

He opened the door and immediately heard a familiar voice say “Look. I’m not saying that you have to do it this way. I’m just saying that I had MacGregor for American Lit about ten years ago, and I know how he feels about it.”

At a table near the counter, a teenaged boy sat with his fair-haired head in his chin staring at a laptop. Standing next to him was petite brunette in a blue dress that was covered by a purple ruffled apron. The boy was unfamiliar to Erik, but he immediately recognized the woman was Elsa Bennet, best friend of his college girlfriend, Annabelle Eliot.

The boy sighed. “I’m just not sure about this. I don’t want MacGregor to think that I’m just going to spit his ideas back in his face.”

“I’m not telling you to spit his ideas back in his face. I’m just telling you the kind of essay structure the old goober likes.”

Erik snorted softly as he walked to the counter. It didn’t sound like Elspeth Bennet had changed in the past six years. Behind the counter the counter stood a girl who looked like she was still in high school. “Can I help you?”

“Just a minute,” he said quickly. “It’s my first time here, and I need a minute or two to look at the menu.”

She smiled and took a step back. “Take your time. Let me know when you’re ready.”

As he scanned the chalkboards painted with the menu, Elsa returned to the counter. “Well, I’ll be,” she breathed. “Erik Wentworth as I live and breathe.”

“Elsa Bennet,” he replied. “So you’re still working here?”

“In a way.”

“Part-time then?”

She smiled. “Part owner, actually.”

“Part owner?” he repeated. “Is Jane passing it on to you gradually? How is Jane?”

“She moved to Arizona actually three years ago. She sold the place to Ann-another of her employees and me.”

“Jane moved to Arizona? Why?”

“Her mom’s health was really going downhill, so they went to live in a drier climate.”

Erik nodded. “Who is your co-owner? Anyone that I know?”

Elsa paused for a brief second, and in her silence Erik knew the answer. He pressed his lips together. “I’m not going to ask you about her.”

“Fine,” Elsa replied flatly.

“I’m not trying to be rude. I just…”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”

“Do I need to ask after Matt Wick?”

She snorted. “I said that I got how you feel about her. Trust me; I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s been years for one, and I’m far better off without him. Now, what can I get for you?”

He ordered a black coffee and a pumpkin scone that Elsa had confessed to having baked. Then he settled in to read until it was time to meet Orlando for dinner.

* * *

Dinner with Orlando was enjoyable. Erik slept well enough that night, and he felt that his interview went smoothly. He was fairly certain that he’d impressed the selection committee, but he didn’t want to move back to Highbury. He didn’t want to get pulled back into **her** orbit. He had applied and interviewed as a favor to Orlando. He hadn’t even paid attention to find out when the posting would be offered to the finalist. Nothing could ever drag him back to Highbury.

He went back to Lyme and his life there. He started dating a preschool teacher named Lucy Musgrove. Life settled back into its former rhythm and by Christmas it was almost as though his brief trip to Highbury had never happened. And so when, on the first Tuesday of the new year, he received a phone call offering him the Visiting Writer post at Highbury College, he was taken by surprise.

It was a position that he had already decided to reject. The words “I’m honored but…” were on the tip of his tongue. And then he looked down at his laptop where he saw that he had one new social media notification. “Lucy Musgrove tagged you in a photo.” He clicked on the link and saw a photo she’d taken of the two of them together the night before. When he saw the caption “It’s only been six weeks but I already know that you’re my forever,” his heart almost stopped.

“Erik, are you there?” Orlando’s voice came through the phone.

“Yeah, sorry, I got distracted for a moment.”

“Can I ask what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah,” he began slowly. “It’s funny. I didn’t want the position when I interviewed.”

“I kind of picked that up,” Orlando confessed. “You weren’t as subtle as I think you thought you were.”

“Highbury is a complicated place for me.”

“I know. I thought about that when I asked you to apply.”

“So you see why I’m hesitant to come back.”

“I do,” Orlando replied slowly. “But I also think that you’d be a good fit for this position.”

“I just don’t know if I can tear my life apart and rebuild it in a place that has less than happy memories for me.” He paused. “But at the same time, I think that staying here won’t push me to grow. Maybe going back to Highbury will push me.”

“It’s only for a year, Erik. You can leave after a year.”

“You think that I can stand being in the same town as her for an entire year?”

“I think you can.”

Erik snorted. “I don’t know about that.”

“And you don’t know about her, Erik.” There was an unavoidable warning note in Orlando’s voice. “Her life has-it hasn’t been easy for her. She’s changed.”

“Well, so have I. And I’m taking this position, but I’m not thrilled about living in the same town as her for an entire year.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

* * *

Her. The bitterness with which Erik spat the word stood in stark contrast to the ways in which he’d once said Annabelle Rose Eliot’s name. Annie, he’d adored his Annie when they were younger. He was certain that there had never been two people who had understood each other so well. He had found his match, his mate. He met her in introductory psychology when he was nineteen years old. They began as friends, but that friendship had gradually turned into something more. He was so certain that they were meant to be together that he’d proposed the night before his undergraduate graduation. She’d accepted; they’d be engaged for a year while she finished college and then they’d get married. She’d join him wherever the Navy sent him. Everything seemed set for a brilliant future together.

And then, four weeks after he proposed, she came to him and gave him back his ring. “Something terrible has happened. I can’t explain it right now. But I can’t marry you right now.”

He hadn’t let her stay to explain what that meant. He didn’t want to hear her excuses. He grabbed the ring from her and slammed the door. Nothing could have been worth ending their engagement. There was no reason for it. And he wouldn’t forgive her. He couldn’t.

* * *

Erik Wentworth arrived in Highbury on a sticky August day. He drove straight to the college and unpacked his belongings to the furnished cottage that the college kept for the Writer in Residence. He’d put most of his belongings in a storage unit for the year, only bringing what he actually needed with him.

He settled into a routine sooner than he would have expected. He got up, ran, showered, and ate breakfast every morning. He went to his office around nine every morning. He taught two courses and held office hours. And he wrote. In the evenings, he socialized with Orlando and a few others from the English department like James Benwick and Hank Harville. He went to the Knit Wit a fair few times because they seemed to know how to make good coffee and they had an exceptional inventory of books. Somehow, he reached the last week of September without ever seeing Annabelle Eliot.

But on a fateful Tuesday afternoon, Erik walked into the café around four in the afternoon. Normally, Elsa was behind the counter at that time, but behind the counter stood a tall woman with light brown hair in place of the usual petite woman with dark brown hair. Annie was looking down at something on the counter, and Erik took advantage of her rapt focus to examine her. She was still tall and slender, her hair still light brown and eyes still blue-although they were currently hidden behind black-framed glasses. She hadn’t really changed. Seven years hadn’t seemed to do much of anything to her. Somehow that bothered him. And so he did the only thing that he could think of in the moment. He dropped the f bomb; only he did it far louder than he’d meant to, and in so doing, he drew the attention of the entire café to him.

Annie’s face shot up and turned white. Erik wondered for a brief second if she might faint but quickly pushed that thought from his mind. She had hurt him all of those years ago. Let her faint. He wasn’t about to feel sorry for a woman who ended an engagement without an explanation. And so he turned on his heel, accidentally smashed his shoulder into a woman standing near the door, and stormed out of the shop.

* * *

He made it maybe ten yards down the street before a loud and clear voice started yelling his name. He ignored at least three bellows of Erik, but when the woman hollered “Frederick Joseph Wentworth,” he knew that there was no point in avoiding her. He knew who was following him.

He sighed as he turned around to see a woman with short auburn hair and quite the grumpy facial expression. “What, Emma? What can I do for you?”

“Well, you can start by not swearing in the middle of after school story-time at my favorite café in my favorite town.”

“I didn’t know that it was story-time.”

Emma shrugged. ”Either way, you interrupted story time. Story time with the story lady is sacred.”

“Is that seriously what you’re annoyed about?”

“Maybe,” she replied. “Maybe I’m the biggest fan of story time out there. The story lady is my friend.”

“Annie’s not the story lady.”

“Annie isn’t my only friend.”

He sighed. Emma Woodhouse’s sass hadn’t dulled a bit in the past seven years. “What did I-no…how…why did you follow me?”

“Because I think you’re being an asshole,” she replied.

“Me?”

She looked around for a moment before nodding. “You.”

“What did I do?”

She flashed her eyebrows.

“Okay, I swore in a bookstore.”

“Because you saw Annie.”

“She ended our engagement without an explanation. I don’t have to talk to her. I don’t have to be nice to her.”

Emma snorted. “You have no clue what you’re talking about. You have no clue what she’s been through in the past seven years. No fucking clue.”

“I went to war, Emma. I’ve seen things.”

“She’s seen things too, Erik. They’re very different things. But the past seven years haven’t been easy on her.”

He snorted. “People keep saying that.”

“Well then maybe you should listen,” she snapped.

As she spoke, a vaguely familiar man came up behind Emma and put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Em. You’ve berated him enough. Let’s go.”

“George,” she hissed as she turned around. “I’m not done. I have more to tell him.”

“Em, you’ve tried. But you’re standing on the sidewalk lecturing the man in front of God and everyone. I doubt you’ll get much progress this way.”

“George,” she began with a sigh.

“Emma, if you do this, what results do you expect?”

“I want him to understand the past seven years of Annie’s life. I want him to know what she’s been through.”

“So you’re going to lecture him in the middle of Main Street at five in the afternoon? Wouldn’t it be easier to send him off to Google or something? There’s a Wikipedia page about the whole thing for crying out loud.”

She stamped her foot, and Erik almost thought he saw George smile. “Okay, fine, you win, but mostly because I’m supposed to have dinner with my dad in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

Emma turned back to Erik. “And you should look up Annie’s parents on Wikipedia. It might be educational.”

“I’ll consider it,” he replied.

“Oh and sc…” she began before George took her arm and began to lead her away.

Erik watched them walk away. He had to fight back a smile as he watched George walk firmly while Emma almost danced around at his side. He felt a pang of curiosity about what had happened to HER in the past seven years, but Emma had always had a tendency toward the dramatic. It probably wasn’t nearly as exciting as she made it out to be.

* * *

Nevertheless Erik brought the issue up with Orlando Higgins over lunch the next day. “Emma said that there’s a Wikipedia page about the Eliot family?”

“Oh yeah,” Orlando replied. “And it’s not a small one. There’s quite a lot out other about the Kellynch Scandal.”

“Scandal?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. It made international news at the time. There was an in-depth analysis about it on the BBC.”

Erik put his fork down. “When did this happen?”

“Six or seven years ago? It was right after you graduated.” He thought for a moment. “I think that the story broke in May? I remember that it made Memorial Day busier than it’s ever been before. And I’m sure I heard Tom Bennet threaten to never house reporters in Longbourn again after the whole thing died down.”

“Wow.”

“I mean,” Orlando began. “It’s not like Highbury is ordinarily overrun by reporters.”

Erik nodded. “Was it about the business?”

“The scandal?”

“Yeah.”

Orlando chewed his lip for a moment before replying. “Yeah, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Kellynch is gone.”

Walter Eliot had inherited Kellynch Paperworks, a large paper mill that had been in his family since his great-great grandfather moved to the forests of northern Michigan more than a century before. The company had been large and successful by the time that Walter inherited it, but he hadn’t been the best manager for the operation. As Erik recalled, his wife Elizabeth and a family friend, Russell Shepherd, had done most of the day-to-day work of running the business.

“It’s gone?” Erik repeated. “But it’s been in Highbury forever. How is it gone?”

The older man shook his head. “It’s a long and bizarre story. Look it up.”

* * *

Alone in his cottage that evening, Erik opened Wikipedia and searched for Kellynch Paperworks. To his surprise, the first thing that he saw was a photo of Elizabeth Eliot in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit. Before he knew it, it was one in the morning, and he had not only read the Wikipedia page but also news articles from local news sources, the New York Times, CNN, and the BBC. He watched more than a few interviews and even found clips from the hour-long analysis that the BBC had aired. Over the course of the night, he learned that Elizabeth Eliot and Russell Shepherd had spent years siphoning money from the paper company’s bank accounts. They were caught in 2004 when the IRS began investigating inconsistencies in the company’s tax returns, which somehow ended up involving the FBI. The night before Annie had given him back his ring, Russell and Elizabeth had been arrested in the middle of dinner at the Eliot family house.

They’d both pled not guilty but ultimately been found guilty of embezzlement, tax evasion, and tax fraud. They were both serving lengthy terms in prison. Walter Eliot, meanwhile, had divorced his wife and been forced to declare bankruptcy. He moved to Florida and married Russell’s daughter while the paper company was sold to Croft Enterprises, a company that was creating post-consumer waste based paper.

But all of the articles left him with questions. What had happened to Annie’s sisters? How much had their family known about the whole thing? How involved had the sisters been in the whole case? Had it impacted their lives beyond the family? How had Annie felt about the whole thing? Who had supported her?

* * *

Shortly after seven-thirty the next morning, Erik charged into the Knit Wit. There was a fair-haired teenaged boy seated near the door, an older couple was at a table by the bookshelves, and Elsa was behind the counter. He immediately approached her. “Where’s Annie?”

Elsa looked up from the latte she was making. “I thought that we weren’t talking about her.”

“I need to talk to her.”

Elsa’s dark brown eyebrows flashed. “Two days ago, you swore during story hour when you saw her here.”

He slammed his hands down on the counter. “I talked to Orlando, and then I looked up the whole thing. I have to talk to Annie.”

“Well, she’s not here at the moment.”

He sighed and leaned over the counter. “Elsa, I need to talk to her.”

“Elsa,” the young man by the door spoke up. “Should I call George?”

“What time is it?”

“Seven-forty,” he replied after a brief pause.

“Go to school.”

“Are you sure?”

Erik realized that his behavior might appear a touch unhinged. He tried to relax, took his hands off the counter, and stood up right. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt Elsa.”

“Elsa?” the boy said in a questioning tone.

“Jamie, it’s okay. Will and George should be here any minute now. You can go to class.”

“I can wait for them if you’re really worried.”

She shook her head. “I’ve known Erik for a long time. He’s just excited.”

Erik couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at the boy. He stayed by the counter and stared at his feet.

“If you’re sure, Elsa,” Jamie began.

“Go to class, James. I’m not calling you in late again.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“The guys are making sure that you get dinner tonight. One of them will pick you up after practice.”

“See you tomorrow then.”

After the bell jangled and the door closed, Erik looked up at Elsa. “I’m sorry.”

“His dad is dying, so George and I are kind of trying to parent him while his mom is busy.”

“I didn’t mean to scare him.” He paused. “Or you, I didn’t want to scare you.”

“But you want to talk to Annie.”

“Please,” he insisted.

“She really isn’t here. On Thursdays, she starts at eight o’clock.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not a problem. I can wait.” He walked over to the table that Jamie had just vacated and sat down.

“Do you want anything while you wait?”

“Tea?”

“Sure.”

* * *

Erik settled himself with a large mug of tea and waited for Annie to arrive. He’d only been waiting a few minutes when two tall dark-haired men strolled in closely followed by George Knightley. Elsa’s face lit up when she saw them. “Will, it’ll be four thirty-seven.”

“What if I want something different?” one of the dark-haired men asked.

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then it’ll be four thirty-seven.”

The man paid and quickly received a bagel and cup of coffee. His companions appeared to take longer with their orders, but they were out the door before eight o’clock.

A few moments after the door closed behind the three men, it burst open again and a tall slender woman rushed in. Erik immediately knew that it was Annie as she made her way behind the counter and into whatever rooms were behind it. Elsa followed her, and in a matter of minutes, Annie was standing by Erik’s table. Her hands were fidgeting and she was shifting her weight awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Elsa said that you wanted to talk to me.”

He nodded. “I read the Wikipedia article about your family last night.”

“Oh god,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Her hands found their way to the back pockets of her navy blue pants. “For what?”

“A host of things,” he began. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. I was up until one reading articles and watching interviews, and I can’t stop thinking about the whole thing. I have to talk to you.”

“Erik, I’m at work right now. I’m working until five or six tonight.”

“Can we talk afterwards?”

“I suppose.”

Oh, Annie! She was, as ever, sweet and patient. “Should I come here?”

“Meet me here at six-thirty, and we can go somewhere private to talk.”

“Thank you.”

She shrugged. “I just hope you find it useful.”

* * *

Erik was at the Knit Wit by six-twenty. Annie wasn’t there, but Elsa was back behind the counter. He sat at the table by the window again, hoping to be out of the way. He could have read a book. He could have tried to do any number of things. But the reality was that his was too nervous to focus on anything at the moment. He just wanted to talk to her. He was beginning to suspect that he had misjudged everything seven years earlier.

He felt like he’d been waiting an eternity when Annie rushed into the shop. Her wet hair was in a messy bun, and she looked tired. “I’m sorry. I wanted to take shower after I left work, and everything took longer than I expected.”

Erik jumped up from his chair, rattling the table. “No, you’re good. You’re fine. I’m sorry.”

“I said that we’d go somewhere we can talk privately. My apartment is available.”

“Okay.”

* * *

The walk out of the café and upstairs to the apartment was a bit awkward. Erik didn’t know what, if anything, he should say. Annie seemed nervous and a little uncomfortable; he could almost feel tension radiating off her. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. She unlocked a door, and they went up a flight of stairs to another door. She unlocked that and paused. “Watch out for the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Elsa and I have two cats, and Lord Peter is an escape artist.”

“Lord Peter?”

“Elsa named them,” she explained as she opened the door and turned on a light. “The black cat is Lord Peter, and the tortoiseshell is Harriet Vane.”

“Of course Elsa named them,” he said as they stepped into the kitchen.

She smiled faintly. “They’re really her cats. If we ever split up, she keeps the cats, and I keep the dishes.”

“Who gets the better deal?”

She shrugged. “The dishes are pretty great, but the cats aren’t too bad.”

He paused in front of the refrigerator and tapped a photo of a dark-haired baby girl. “Is this your niece?”

Annie walked over and smiled. “No, this is Josie Kingsleigh. She’s my goddaughter.”

“Kingsleigh?”

“She’s Alice Knightley’s daughter. Alice married a guy named Oliver Kingsleigh who she met while she was studying abroad, and Josie is their first kid.”

“And your goddaughter?”

“Mine and George’s,” she said.

“She’s cute.” He paused before looking at her. “Do you have any nieces? Or nephews?”

Annie turned and started walking towards the living room. “Mara has a kid who was born maybe two years ago? I think he’s two. Lillie doesn’t have any kids.”

“Are they married?”

She sat down on the grey couch and motioned for him to do the same. “Not that I know of, but I haven’t seen either of my sisters since my mom’s sentencing six years ago. All that I know of them is what I get from Facebook posts and Christmas cards.”

“Six years?”

She shrugged. “What happened with my mom, that destroyed our family. It broke any trust or respect that I’d ever had for my dad. It destroyed my relationship with my mom. I couldn’t believe that she’d done half of what she’d done. I knew that their marriage was far from perfect and I knew that she and I had different priorities. But I never imagined that she’d done all of what she’d done.”

“The embezzlement?”

“The embezzlement,” she sighed rubbing a hand at her eye. “The affair! She and Russ had been together for almost twenty years.”

“Twenty?”

“Twenty, since I was two. My mom had been cheating on my dad when I was in diapers.”

Wheels were starting to turn in Erik’s head. “That would be before Mara was born.”

Annie’s voice was cold and entirely unlike the Annie that Erik had known. “Mara isn’t my dad’s daughter.”

“Pardon?”

“Mara is Russ’s daughter. That night, before they were arrested? We were having a family dinner so that Mom could announce that she was leaving Dad. And of course, by some dark coincidence, that’s when the police chose to come and arrest them. I still don’t know how that was determined. But my mother stood there and told us about how she’d lost interest in my father after I was born and how she only stayed with him for the money and she’d been with Russ for eons and Russ was Mara’s dad. It was horrible, Erik.” She paused, tears running down her face. “And then the police showed up in the middle of it. She and Russ were arrested. Dad was a mess. Lillie was freaking out. Mara, oh God, I don’t even know. And I was just trying to hold something together.”

“And then you came to see me the next day.”

She nodded. “My family was a mess, and I was trying to be the only sane person. I couldn’t get married. If we got married, I would have moved to be with you, and I couldn’t have been there for my family. I didn’t want to break up with you. I really didn’t. I just wanted to find a way to make things work so that I could be in your life but also be there for my family.”

“And I gave you no chance to explain.”

“I wanted to explain. But I didn’t start well, and you didn’t have any reason to listen to me.”

He sighed. “Annie, don’t blame yourself for this.”

“I’m not entirely innocent in this, Erik. I’m not a saint.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Who was there for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who supported you, helped you in all of this? I know what your family can be like.”

“Elsa,” she replied. “Elsa was there for everything. Between her, Emma, and Nora, I never went to a court date alone. They stayed up late listening to me and comforting me. And Elsa helped me to build a new family.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned back. “If you ever find yourself needing a new family, talk to Elsa. The Bennet family adopted me. They listened to me. They talked to me. I spend every holiday with them. That first Thanksgiving after it all fell to crap, I was planning on spending it alone because my dad was a recluse and everyone else was scattered to the wind. And then a week before Thanksgiving, the Great Mary Frances called me up and informed me that I’d be spending Thanksgiving with them. And then a month later, I spent Christmas with them. They bought me presents, Erik! And then, I spent Easter with them.”

“Did you get an Easter basket?”

She snorted. “You’re joking, but I did. I still do. I get an Easter basket and a Valentine’s gift. I get everything that the Great Mary Frances gives to her ‘real’ daughters.”

“So the Great Mary Frances has some uses after all?”

“You know,” Annie sighed. “She’s far from perfect. But she is a good mother. She loves her children. And if you ever find yourself in desperate need of a mother, I hope that you find your own Great Mary Frances.”

“I’m glad that you had her, that you had all of them.”

She smiled. “I was extremely lucky. I think that, in a lot of ways, my friendships protected me in ways that my sisters just weren’t.”

“How so?”

“I lost my family, or really all three of us lost our family. But I had friends who were willing to fill in the gaps for me. My sisters didn’t. They didn’t have friends who came to the trial with them or invited them to holiday dinners.”

He leaned forward. “I wish I had known.”

“You can’t change what happened.”

“But I can do better going forward.”

“You might want to try to get to know me again first.”

He smiled. “Everyone says that you’ve changed.”

She leaned back. “I’ve been told that a lot. I’ve also been told that going through what I went through forces you to grow and change. I don’t know if I grew exactly, but I’m pretty sure that I changed.”

“I bet you would.” He paused. “Annie, I need to ask you something important.”

“What?”

“If I hadn’t uh-if I hadn’t shut the door in your face that day, would you have told me what had happened?”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“Would you have told me that morning what happened with your mom and everything?”

She sighed. “Erik, that’s why I was there.”

“Well, shit.”

“I got out the first part, but I had more to say. I wanted to explain why I was doing to you. I really did.”

“But I didn’t give you much of a chance, did I?”

Annie pressed her lips together. “Not really, no.”

Erik stretched out his long legs. “I really have a lot of things to apologize for, don’t I?”

“To be fair, I didn’t start that conversation very well either.”

He sighed. “Annie, let me beat myself up a little on this one. I didn’t do the right thing at all.”

“Be that as it may, what’s done is done.”

“What’s past is prologue, as they say?”

She smiled. “As they say.”

He looked at her. “How do we start over, Annie?”

“Do you want to?”

Erik leveled his gaze on his former girlfriend. “Annie, I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anyone else. I didn’t forget you. I couldn’t let go of you.”

She smiled. “I think that we need to start by being friends. We need to get to know each other again. And then, we’ll see how things go.”

“I can work with that.”

* * *


End file.
